One thing I have desired... to behold the Beauty of the Lord. ~ Psalm 27:4
Beautiful... who can understand the making of it? Truly, who can explain the beauty of the white moon in an indigo night sky? Who can find words when you look into the minuteness of the smallest most humble field flower? Who can articulate the wonder of a fuschia-orange sky over the blue-purple mountains?
When our eyes gaze at awe, even when someone is standing right there beside us, how can we know they see as we see? How can we explain the beauty? There is no understanding unless we stand there together and speak of the exact beauty we are taking in... still the limits are present in the reflection and only the heart can feel it and hope for a spirit to spirit understanding.
How can we speak of the Beauty of the Lord... of His Holiness? Shut my mouth. Hold my tongue. Exonerate my racing mind that has to prove something.
Beauty is not in the telling... it is in the observation... in the acquaintance.
This one thing I ask...
To see you in All Your Beauty would melt me... but may I get a glance?
I believe You reveal it to me when I free-sketch... the moving lines that stretch out on the paper before my pen actually flows over them. The deposits of solid revelation before I fill in the sphere. The zig-zag that moves me back and forth reflecting the way I try to find you - it shows my discord in still not living totally in that flow... still I wrestle for the figuring out of things. Set me at ease; sway me; hold me; inspire me, Beautiful One.
I bow under your solidity of Beauty. I dance in the fluidity of your Holiness.